Halvar Helason
by wilddreamgirl
Summary: It turns out that Lily and James aren't Harry's parents...not exactly. The truth, as it is, is far more complicated and painful than that. Harry, after discovering the truth, is thrust into a world that he has no prior knowledge of, whilst struggling to deal with the harsh and abrupt changes thrown his way. Warning- past rape, possible abuse triggers. slight Thor-bashing
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter one**

Harry floated painlessly in Death, finally free of the pains, the burdens, the demands the Wizarding World had heaped on him. Voldemort had killed him, just as Dumbledore had planned, and though Harry bet the old man was counting on him somehow returning to life, the teen had no plans to do so. if he lived, no doubt the Weasleys or Granger had their marching orders to kill him and persuade the Wizarding World that he would turn Dark.

Suddenly, he felt air hit him, along with a rush of pain as he felt his body _change_ and what was that about, and then he was being cradled as someone sobbed into his hair. "My Son…Oh, my sweet son…"

* * *

An hour later, Harry was sitting in a comfortable chair next to a fire with roaring flames, staring at the twenty-ish year old woman opposite him in shock. She had his emerald eyes and black hair, though her hair was a sleek curtain, and her features were more aristocratic, feline.  
"What do you mean, you're my Mother?"  
"Exactly that." the woman rubbed her temples, and reached for the table next to her chair, where a glass of something that looked suspiciously like Firewhisky mixed with something else. "Please, will you let me explain without any interruptions?" at Harry's nod she told her story.

"My name is Hela. I am the Queen of Helheim and Niflheim, Daughter of Loki, God of Magic and Mischief. Many years ago-don't ask me how many, time is damn complicated in the Realm of the Dead-I was r-raped by Thor Odinson, now Crown Prince of Asgard-my Uncle through my Father's adoption. I became pregnant...with you. I knew that if you stayed with me, you would be treated as a monster, but I didn't know what to do with you. Then, a new soul entered my Realm. A magical baby, not even out of the womb yet. I...swapped you for that baby, temporarily binding your powers until the day you died...until you came home. Thor was...furious that you had escaped. He searched and searched, but...the only one who can see into the Wizarding World is my Father, and he refused to help Thor, regardless of what punishment was bestowed on him. My rape...It was the final straw for Father, after the treatment of my brothers and I."

"What is my name...Mother?" Harry asked quietly. He believed her-that sort of emotion couldn't be faked. If he ever met Thor, it was going to be extremely painful for the man. Asgardian. Whatever.  
"Oh..." Hela breathed. He believed her. "I...I never got to name you, but I have always thought of you as my little Halvar **(Pronounced Hahl-vahr)** It means 'Defender of the rock'." she paused. "I couldn't watch your life without permission from Father. Would you...tell me about yourself?"  
Harry-no, Halvar sighed. This wasn't going to go well.

* * *

Five years had passed within the Realm of Death. Halvar was now twenty two years old.  
After stopping his Mother from forcefully collecting the souls of everyone who had hurt him, the Crown Prince of Helheim and Nifhelm had settled into life at the palace. By far the best part-besides his Mother-in his opinion was meeting the Potters-James had happily taken up the role of Father again and Lily had slipped into the position of mothering Aunt-, being reunited with Sirius and Hedwig and being trained by dead Wizards, such as the Peverells and the Founders (He'd had serious grovelling to do for killing Salazar's Familiar) and meeting his Ancestors. Borr and Laufey had both been absolutely furious at how he had been forced to live. Odin and Thor would be in deep trouble when they passed into Death. Laufey had taught him the language of his people and how to fight in his Jotunn form (despite the fond grumbles about him being a runt).

However, the Norns had visited about a week ago, and informed the family that The Prophecy still needed to be completed.  
There had been screaming, yelling, crying, but the Norns had stood firm, though Urd had clearly felt for them.  
"If he goes back, Heimdall will see him! Father is no longer allowed to command who sees his people as part of his punishment for the incident with Thanos!" Hela cried. "They will take him away, hurt him! Please...I beg you, please..."

None of the family had slept since, and if they had, nightmares pervaded their rest.

* * *

"I will be alright, Mother." Halvar soothed hollowly. "No matter what, I will return eventually."  
"Yes, coming home the same way as one of my subjects!" the Queen sobbed in his arms.  
"But always as your son. Always the Crown Prince." swallowing the lump in his throat, he turned to his family. "Father, Aunts, Great-Grandfathers, Uncles. Take care of Mother for me, until I return?"  
"You don't even need to ask, Prongslet." James spoke for them.  
" _Remember, hard, fast, no mercy_." Laufey reminded.  
" _I will rip his manhood off with my bare hands should I get the chance_." Halvar nodded. Neither was talking about Voldemort.  
"Tell my Son and his Heir that I declare them disgraces to the Throne of Asgard for what they have done to your family." Borr chipped in.

Hela forced herself to release her son. "You will be returned to after you died. Five minutes there-five years here. Call upon your heritage the instant you awaken, and make your way home as fast as possible, do you hear me?"  
"I hear you, and obey, my Lady Mother." Halvar swore.  
"Goodbye, my sweet Princeling. Never doubt that I love you."

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Hela sent her son to his destination, collapsing in unrestrained grief as soon as he vanished.

* * *

Halvar awoke in large, strong arms, which were shaking with sobs. Hagrid. Halvar decided to play dead for a little while longer. he could hear Tom's gleeful voice giving orders-they were heading up to the Castle to parade their victory. Asshole.  
Hmm. That was the first time he'd sworn in years. Swearing just wasn't done if you were Royalty or a member of the higher races. It was uncouth.  
Oh, and now he was going to have to deal with the Sheeple as well. Wonderful.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away-"  
Voldemort was cut off by a quiet laugh. "Really now, Tom? That's rather different from what I recall." and Harry Potter rolled out of a stunned Hagrid's arms.  
"What-You were dead!" Voldemort screamed, nearly inarticulate with rage, and a little fear. "You! Did you dare lie to me?" he spat at the now cowering Narcissa Malfoy.  
"She did not." Halvar refuted. "Mother merely welcomed me home and has now sent me back to finish what was started those many years ago."  
"Lily Potter." Voldemort sneered. "What power did a Mudblood have to send you back to die again?"  
"None. However, Queen Hela Lokidottir, my Mother, does."  
The young man laughed at the confusion on many faces.

"Harry Potter died in Lily's womb. My Mother saw her chance to save me and she took it. I was born to Lily and James, yes, but I am not theirs by blood." he straightened, allowing himself to drop the act of Harry Potter, Chosen One. He stood straighter, looked prouder. "My name is Halvar Helason, Crown Prince of Helheim and Niflheim."  
Ignoring the gasps from those who understood what he had just said, Halvar called upon his inheritance, smirking when his armour, rather like his Grandfather's, though with dark purple leather and silver metal, and a hood. His long knives were strapped to his back, and he unsheathed them, swinging in preparation. His looks had changed. Oh, his eyes were still their startling green, his hair the same inky black, though tamer, but his features were more aristocratic and feline, his body that of a lean warrior, his skin paling to alabaster. His now long hair was plaited and coiled at the base of his neck. On his head rested a circlet of silver, etched with onyx runes.

Voldemort paled, stumbling back, for once devoid of his arrogance. He knew those names, those titles. He was essentially facing the Prince of Death. But-his Horcruxes. He still had them. He was safe.  
His relief must have shown on his face, because Halvar shook his head slowly. "Honestly Tom, do you think I would allow such dangerous things to be in use? The entirety of this year was spent tracking them and destroying them. I made Mother very proud."  
Avada Kedavra!" he screamed desperately. It was batted aside with a laugh.  
"Death will not claim me unless I wish it or Mother wants me home."  
"Cruc-"  
The end of the curse never left the monster's lips. Halvar's blades cut through his chest, cleanly through to sprout out his back. Nagini lunged with an enraged hiss. Her head fell to the Sword of Gryffindor, wielded by a dirty, bleeding Neville Longbottom.

Halvar spared a grin for the young man, and the two turned to face the Death Eaters.  
"Unless you want to meet your Ancestors before your time, surrender now." the two laughed when the majority of the Death Eaters dropped their wands, cowered, or tried to run.  
Bellatrix however, refused to go down so easily. She screamed, sending a barrage of curses at the two. All Halvar did was smoothly dodge and turn to Neville, saying "Go for it, Nev."  
The Longbottom Heir charged forward with a snarl, ignoring his injuries and the Blasting curse the bitch shot to his shoulder. One minute she was screaming an throwing about spells with abandon, the next her head joined Nagini's.

"HARRY!" three shrieks rent the air as Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs Weasley attempted to smother him. He sidestepped them with an icy look of contempt.  
"Crown Prince Halvar." He corrected coldly. "Actually, you have no right to address me whatsoever. You pretended affection and love in exchange for money and status. You reported the slightest thing to Dumbledore. You planned to drug me and have a Potter Heir conceived, kill me off, and take the fortune for yourself. You drugged my food. Did you really think I was fool enough not to notice? You three and Weasel won't see a penny of my money." suddenly, he saw Fred's fallen body and, with a sharp inhale, moved to kneel beside him, placing a hand on his forehead, closing his eyes. He opened them as he moved to look at a stricken George. "Mother has him. He is currently with Prongs and Padfoot planning Pranks for whichever of us gets there first."

Suddenly, his head jerked up at the ominous rumble of thunder. Scrambling to his feet, he darted over to Neville. "Listen. I consulted with Father-James-and we both agreed that the Longbottom Family would be the best Regents for House Potter. Siri also agreed the same for House Black. I'll get in contact when I can. Kreacher has a copy of what we ask for you as Regent for both Houses. If I die, I name you my Heir. If you die before I, I name your children or Luna my Heir. Stay safe."

Then he ran.  
In his heart, he knew he couldn't outrun a storm. Especially not one fuelled by a powerful God. But still.  
He was nearing the gates of Hogwarts when he was barrelled into by Thor. Halvar refused to be taken easily, however- he bit, scratched, snarled when he was thwarted from his Long Knives.

* * *

Thor grunted as he struggled with the boy, who was about as hard to pin down as Loki, and equally as vicious, it seemed. Finally, he wrapped a hand around the graceful throat, forcing all the boy's efforts to concentrate on breathing, as he reached to a fallen gate nearby and, wrenching away a piece of railing, wrapped it around the wrists of the boy, allowing him to subdue him with ease. Hefting his captive against his body with one arm, he set off in the direction of his home on Midgard, and the one person who would likely be able to calm the boy. Avengers Tower.


	2. Chapter 2

_Blah blah_ \- Jotunn language

 **Blah blah** \- Language of the Dead

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

Loki was lounging at the island in the Communal Floor of Avengers Tower, sipping at a mug of coffee and frowning to himself. He had felt something in his links to the people he could truly call his own-the Magical beings. He couldn't quite understand it- Damn Odin to the depths of Niflheim for taking most of his Magic away from him- but it made him uneasy.

"Apologies." JARVIS said into the silence, causing everyone to look up-most of the team were watching a film of some sort-"But I believe Mr Thor is headed this way. I am no expert, but his storm looks...troubled."

Loki abandoned his coffee and moved out on to the balcony, eyeing the storm. "JARVIS would be correct. However, the more important detail would be that he appears to have an unwilling companion."  
"Asgardian?" Natasha asked, frowning.  
"Not human, at any rate. No human would be able to struggle with Thor in the middle of a thunderstorm."  
"Would anyone you know do that?" Clint broke in.  
"Hogun, possibly. He hates that particular mode of transportation. So do I, actually."

Before anymore questions could be asked, Thor crashed onto the balcony, locked in a struggle with his desperate companion, who was snarling and spitting in a liquid language. They quickly saw that he was bound. They also saw the hate and terror in his eyes. Thor looked to be pained, and had several marks from the boy.  
Loki frowned. He knew that language. Not well of course, very few on Asgard spoke that language. However, he knew certain words, and from what he could tell, the boy was insulting Thor viciously. One word was repeated. Monster.  
Suddenly, the boy's head whipped around, and familiar green eyes locked on his. Eyes that were darkening to red, with blueing skin.  
" _Grandfather_!" the boy screamed. " _Grandfather, please_!"

The Avengers watched, stunned, as, at the boy's new cries, Loki leapt forward and tore the young man away from Thor, calling a blade to hand as he did so, levelling it at his brother. His eyes were pitiless red. The boy burrowed into his side, shaking, mumbling over and over in that first language.  
"Stay away from him!" Loki snarled.  
"Lo-"  
"No! Tell me, did you rip him from her arms? Take something so precious from my Daughter again!?"  
"Heimdall sensed him at your British school. He informed me so as I ordered."

"Would someone care to let us in on the conversation?" Tony asked, eyes wider than usual. "You have a daughter Loki? The stories are true?"  
"I have one Daughter and three Sons. All were taken, I have read your stories of them. Yes, they are true. Steven." Loki spoke to the leader of the Avengers, never taking his eyes from Thor "would you be so kind as to free my Grandson?"

As soon as Steve processed the request, he was moving forward, stopping when the boy twisted in Loki's grip to snarl at him.  
" _Steven will not harm you._ " Loki reassured. " _I trust him and the other Avengers_."  
Slowly, the young man extended his wrists to the Captain, and the metal was quickly broken away.

The instant his hands were free, the Long Knives on his back were in his hands, and he glared at Thor.  
"Lower your blades." Thor ordered assertively to the teen, who scowled "I mean you no harm."  
"No? You kidnapped me from my home here on Midgard! Go to Niflheim!"  
"I am your Father!"  
Instantly, everyone knew that was the wrong thing to say as both dark haired males hissed furiously and the air turned cold.  
"You are Mother's rapist." the teen corrected coldly. "My Father is the man who died to save me when I was a baby."

"Rapist?"  
The trio's attention snaps to Bruce, who's eyes are wide in stunned horror.  
"I believe this is not a conversation to have on the balcony." Steve said quietly.

* * *

The group and newcomer troop back indoors, arranging themselves comfortably for what they all knew would be a long and uncomfortable conversation  
"Explain." Natasha ordered. "Now."

"I was...young." Thor sighed shamefully. "Hela-"  
"Queen Hela." Halvar corrected icily. "You have no right to informality with her."  
"My apologies. As I was saying, Queen Hela had been in her position for many a year by this time, and...well. Father had made it quite clear that-"  
"That none of my children were worth more than manure." Loki stated bitterly. "Odin rides Sleipnir like a common mule, and I have not seen my other children since their sentences."  
"I was arrogant, believing that my title as Heir to the Throne of Asgard made me untouchable, able to do anything I wished." Thor paused. "I...got drunk before I was to be sent on a routine inspection on Hela, though I managed to hide it, and Heimdall wasn't paying attention...not until it was too late."

"I damn near killed him." Loki reminisced angrily, glaring holes into the blonde god. "That was when I started to loose myself actually. Then...Heimdall informed us that Hela was pregnant. Again, I damn near killed him. And Odin too- I was banned from visiting any of my children, and the old man wouldn't even lift the ban for my raped, pregnant little girl."

At the snarl from Bruce, everyone shot him wary/nervous looks.

"But then the news came that the Queen was no longer pregnant." Thor continued. "Mother herself went to ask what had happened to the child. She laughed in her face and spat at Mother's feet, questioning her intelligence, because did we really think she would docilely hand over her baby after what we had done to her kin. Further questioning revealed that the child was gone. And she refused to tell us where. Heimdall could not see him. Father tried to order Loki into allowing Heimdall to search among the Magical communities. Loki had much the same reply as his daughter. Sleipnir, when he heard the news, tried to trample Father."

"Mother was at her wits end." Halvar took up the tale, knowing his Grandfather, at least, was owed it. "but then a babe from the Magical community entered her realm, not even out of his Mother's womb. She took the opportunity, knowing Heimdall could see nothing into the community without Grandfather's permission. She switched us, binding my powers until the day I died-until I returned home, in essence. Unfortunately, my pseudo parents- I see them as Father and Aunt respectively-died protecting me from a sociopath at eighteen months old. Things...well, they went steadily downhill from there largely thanks to a Prophecy dictated by the Norns. I died recently, discovered my heritage, lived a wonderful five years with Mother and a rather mishmash family composed of dead family and ancestors. _Then_ those damned Norns stuck their noses back in and declared that I needed to return to the Mortal Plain to complete the Prophecy. We all knew I would be discovered, and would likely return home in the way most do, and I cannot return home otherwise unless it is by a path guided by Heimdall."

"Death." Clint spoke for the first time.  
"Correct."

Loki spoke, his eyes wide, very pale.  
"Your name, what was it?"  
Halvar winced. "Grandfather..."  
"There was one magical child in Britain who's life was dictated by Prophecy, who lost his parents at the same age as you, and who the Norns refused to allow me to help. Please...tell me..."  
"Harry Potter." Halvar said tiredly. "Though Mother named me Halvar. I prefer Halvar, please."

Halvar found himself in his Grandfather's arms as the man desperately checked him over, cursing in several languages.  
"JARVIS." The God of Magic said tightly. "Track down Petunia, Vernon, Marge and Dudley Dursley and get them here as soon as possible. I don't care how, or what state they're in, just so long as they're alive."  
"Of course, Master Loki."  
"Don't. No, Grandfather-"  
" _You lived in the Cupboard under the stairs_!" Loki snarled, his humanoid form slipping away as his long fingers wrapped around his grandson's chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. " _You were their slave! You thought your name was Freak until your education started! I had to watch in agony and do nothing, and now I find that the Little Survivor I pleaded to the Norns to allow me to help is my lost Frostling! I can do nothing to the Norns, so for now I will take your pain out of their hides until I have the right back to punish the unworthy Mages! Do not attempt to sway me from this!_ "  
Halvar fell silent as he realised the extent of his Grandfather's wrath.

"I'm assuming these Dursleys are in for a world of pain?" Steve asked lightly, trying to soothe the atmosphere.  
"They shall die by my hand, and then they will have Hela to deal with." Loki declared.  
"Mother will love you even more for sending them to her." Halvar admitted, burying his face in Loki's chest.  
"Wonderful." the God commented. "JARVIS, there is a bedroom connected to mine, is there not?"  
"There is. Would you like it to be set up for Mr Helason?"  
"I would. Thank you."  
With that, Loki pulled the boy from the room, likely to show him where he would be staying.

* * *

The instant the two were gone, the Avengers dropped their masks, staring at Thor in shock, horror, and disgust in turns.  
"Get out." Tony snapped, marching to the bar to pour himself a drink. "You raped your own niece. You're coming nowhere near Pepper, or that kid."  
"I was drunk-"  
"I've been drunk more times than I fucking care to think about, and I've never raped a damn soul." the genius hissed, slamming his now empty glass onto the bar.  
"We may have to consider your place in the Avengers." Steve said tiredly, rubbing a hand down his face.  
"No 'may' about it." Clint muttered.

"Thor" everyone turned to look at a shaking Bruce "If you don't leave now, what We did to Loki during the invasion will seem like child's play."

Thor was out of the tower in an instant.  
Bruce secluded himself in a room in the Tower built to contain the Hulk.


	3. Chapter 3

_Blah blah_ \- Jotunn language

 **Blah blah** \- Language of the Dead

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

"Mr Helason, Dr Banner has asked me to wake you for breakfast."  
 **"Mmph. I will be in Mother's attendance in a moment."** Halvar mumbled into his pillow, rolling out of bed, gazing blearily around. He was on his guard instantly when he didn't recognise the room. **"Where am I?"** he barked. **"So help me, if you have harmed my family, you shall suffer the greatest punishments of Niflheim!"**  
"Mr Helason, I do not know the language you are speaking, but I assume you are asking where you are. You are in Avengers Tower, New York, Midgard."

Ah.  
He remembered now.  
With a nod, he donned his armour.  
 **"Wh-"** clearing his throat, he forced his brain to switch to English. "Where might breakfast be?"

* * *

The Avengers were dotted around the open room when Halvar entered. Doctor Banner was in the kitchen with Captain Rogers. Returning their greetings politely, the teen made a beeline for the chair at his Grandfather's left. The man was happily drinking a large mug of coffee.  
"Halvar, how are you this morning?" Dr Banner asked.  
"Well enough, waking up in an unknown place." Halvar replied with a slight smile. "I may have threatened JARVIS. I apologise."

"People have done worse." a well-dressed redhead entered the room with a smile, surveying the group. "Virginia Potts, but everyone calls me Pepper. Where is Tony?"  
"Usual." Barton grunted into his cereal.  
"JARVIS, get Tony up here for breakfast please. I have a hell of a lot of paperwork that needs his signature."  
"Of course, Madam."

"What would you like to eat, Halvar?" Captain Rogers asked with a smile.  
"Is there any porridge?"

A minute later, he was happily tucking into a bowl of porridge, when the phone rang.  
"Patch it through, J." Stark ordered as he sauntered in, his smirk falling when he saw the doom brought by his CEO.

A woman's voice, choked with sobs, sounded through the room.  
"Tell me it's not true, please, someone tell me he didn't- Loki..."  
"I am sorry, Jane." Loki said quietly. "What did Thor tell you?"  
"He...Your daughter...son...RAPE!" she managed.  
"Yes, Thor did rape Hela and she had a son from the rape." Loki recognised what she was trying to say.  
"With all respect, Grandfather, can we please try not to bring up the fact that the man I consider my Father shares no blood with me?" Halvar pleaded plaintively.  
"I apologise. Halvar, Lady Jane is..."  
"Thor's girlfriend." the woman sniffled.  
"WHAT!" Halvar jerked away from his breakfast, his expression stunned.  
"Well, I was his girlfriend, but now..."  
"Get as far away from him as possible." Halvar advised seriously. "I would not trust him around any Lady."  
"We threw him out. Eric shoved him out the door after Darcy tasered him. I think he went to Asgard."  
"Wonderful. Odin will be on my arse now." Halvar grimaced.

"Such language is not appropriate for the Crown Prince of the Underworld!" Loki reprimanded sharply as the others continued speaking with the distraught Lady Jane. "No matter how true the statement."  
"You sound like Great-Grandfathers."  
"What?"  
"Grandfather Laufey and Grandfather Borr." Halvar gave his elder a flat look. "It was your wet-nurse who abandoned you that day. Laufey ripped her head from her shoulders for it. She's still punished by him quite frequently- I had a turn at beating her to a pulp also. Oh, he grumbles about runt-ness, but he really doesn't care. Oh, and Grandfather Borr has given me permission to rip off Thor's manhood. Grandfather Laufey showed me how on some people in Niflheim who rather deserved it. He's an amazing fighter."

"He-he wanted me?" Loki choked.  
Taking pity on his Grandfather, the young man switched languages.  
 _"Yes. He forgives you, Grandfather."  
_ _"I Killed him!"_ Loki cried, tearing at his hair. Halvar grabbed his hands, stopping the frenzied actions and pulled his distraught elder into a hug.  
 _"You were acting under what little knowledge you had, which led you to believe that he was a cruel monster of a Jotunn! You are at no fault! The fault lies with the wet-nurse and Odin!"  
_ _"I...I will be in my room if I am needed."_ with that, Loki stumbled to the door, reeling with the new information.  
 _"Grandfather."_ Halvar called quickly, causing the man to stop. _"I think you have wondered...He called you Loptr. Loptr Laufeyson."_  
With a jerky nod, the tormented man staggered out of the room.

"Halvar..." Captain Rogers said carefully "If you don't mind my asking, what is Loki so upset about?"  
"Grandfather had thought that his Father...Laufey...abandoned him. He did not. I corrected the matter. However, Grandfather killed Great-Grandfather a few years ago, so now he is dealing with the fact that he killed the Father who cared deeply for him regardless of the fact that he was a Runt."  
"What language was that?" Black Widow asked.  
"Jotun, the language of the Jotunn, the Frost Giants. Where exactly Grandfather learned it I do not know, but I learned it from my Great-Grandfather, who ensured that I was fluent."  
"And that language you were yelling at Thor in yesterday?"  
"The Language of the Dead. An amalgam of all the dead languages ever to exist. It has no name as far as anyone can tell. The Dead know it instinctively, and learning it otherwise takes a concentrated effort, usually over far more time than most Midgardians live."

"I have to report to the Director." the Widow declared as she finished her coffee, "Barton, with me."  
"Why, Nat?!" the archer whined as she dragged him to the elevator. "It's not even my turn."

"Aww." Stark looked up from around the mountain of paperwork Pepper had smugly placed in front of him "Such a loving couple."  
"Halvar, I don't mean to be offensive or anything, but you can't go around in your armour all the time. We can take you shopping if you want- we did with Loki." Rogers said, leaning on the island, ignoring the genius.

"Ah." Halvar rubbed the back of his neck. "That will not be necessary, though I will insist upon my crown and weapons outside of the tower. Mr Stark? Do I have your consent to summon my Servant on Midgard?"  
"Like a dead servant?" Stark questioned, frowning. "Or what, are you some Lord or something in the Magical World?" he joked.  
"I am the Head of Houses Potter and Black in the Magical World. May I call my Elf?"  
"Um, sure." Stark replied, thrown off balance.

"Kreacher!" Halvar called.  
Instantly, a crack sounded through the room, and a small being was clinging to Halvar, shuddering with sobs. In a swift move, the young man dropped to his knees and enfolded the elf in a hug.  
"Master." Kreacher breathed "Kreacher is so happy to see you!" remembering himself, he pulled away, sniffed, and gave a deep bow. "How may Kreacher serve his Master?"  
"It's alright Kreacher." the teen soothed. "I need my trunk and my wardrobe please- no robes. Also, some of your caramel cookies if at all possible." he grinned.  
"Is Master Harry not coming home?" the large ears drooped pitifully.  
"I cannot, dear loyal Kreacher." Halvar said brokenly. "There is much uproar happening over...certain circumstances in my life. I dare not. Give my love to my brother, Mayhem, and Divina for me. Serve them as you would me, understand? Remind Mayhem not to loose himself with the loss of Mischief."  
With a happy bow, the elf popped away.

"What. The Hell. Was. That?!" Stark yelped, breaking out of his shock.  
"My servant. Did Grandfather not explain to you about the Magical World?"  
"Ah, no." Steve replied. "We only knew that Witches and Wizards were real when Thor let it slip. Loki is very protective of them."  
"Understandable." Halvar rose. "Grandfather has nurtured the Magic of this world for Eons. They respected him for his prowess, who he was. They did not hate him for something he could not control. They were the closest thing he could get to children without them being condemned." he snorted. "Unfortunately, most have become self-centred and prejudicial. Odin limited the contact he could have with them, as did the Norns."

Kreacher popped back in with Halvar's trunk and a plate full of warm cookies, which he was immediately relieved of.  
"Holy Yggdrasil, I will always love these." the teen moaned happily, snarling as Stark reached over and stole one, cramming it into his mouth, having almost the same reaction.  
"Steal my cookies again and I _will_ fry all the electrics in your precious tower. Please don't take it personally JARVIS." Halvar warned in a deadly manner before quickly looking towards the ceiling.  
"Of course not Mr Helason. Though should you ever feel the need to destroy my systems, please make sure that Sir has a backup of me first."  
"Noted. Kreacher, leave the trunk there and I shall take it to my room later." At the elf's horrified look at the thought of a Master, _his_ Master, doing something so menial, he quickly explained "This is a non-Magical home, Kreacher, and I have no idea how house-elf magic could affect it. I have no wish to offend my hosts."  
"Of course Master. Your trunk has the usual wards upon it, and Kreacher took the liberty of acquiring and fitting a Blood Lock for you. Does Master wish Kreacher to remove it?"  
"No, thank you for such thought, Kreacher. It will be a valuable guard for my possessions."  
"Kreacher is honoured to be of service to such a great Master."

Sadly, Kreacher popped away, taking the now empty plate with him with a tremulous smile.

* * *

Three days later, The Avengers (including Loki but minus Thor) were making their way back to the Tower on foot to enjoy the reprise, after a particularly gruelling party they were forced to attend by Pepper, which had somehow degenerated into an interrogation by the press. Most had been focused on where Thor had disappeared to.  
"That." Loki declared "Was on par with some of the more disastrous of the Royal Meets- and several of them near ended in wars, thanks to the stupidity of Thor and the Warriors Three. Sif is...somewhat bearable, though blindingly devoted to Thor."  
"I've had nicer interrogations." Clint scowled. "Well done for keeping it kosher, Bruce."  
"I'm going to kill Pepper." Tony vowed.  
"No killing your wife." Natasha vetoed that. "Revenge, yes, but if we killed Pepper, I'm pretty sure she'd find a way to become a ghost just to haunt us."  
"Hela would likely help her do so for her own amusement." Loki chuckled fondly.  
"Guys." Steve sighed, inwardly agreeing with them, but staying as he always was, the peace keeper.

An explosion shook the ground, and, exchanging glances, the team raced to the scene, Bruce looking a little more worried than the others.  
Doom was causing havoc, and Tony swore. "Dammit. I can call the Suit, guys, any of you armed?"  
True to form, Natasha pulled some guns from where they had been somehow secreted in her skintight dress. Clint had a small crossbow in hand. Loki simply called his armour and the staff he now used- the one he had wielded previously to his fall from the Bridge- to him with a snarl. Bruce and Steve shook their heads.

"Widow, Hawkeye, Loki, you take point. Tony, call your armour. I'll cover you guys where necessary. Bruce...be careful, try and get any Civilians out the area."  
Natasha took out several Doombots with a round from her gun, Clint copying her. Loki duplicated himself and flickered in and out through the enemy ranks, and caused general chaos. Steve, though he didn't have his shield, still had his strength, and a hefty punch put several Bots out of commission.

* * *

Back in the Tower Halvar, who had been alerted to the situation by JARVIS, was watching the fight on the TV (And really, how were the film crews always on the scene the instant a fight began?) and trying to decide whether or not he should aid them.

* * *

Tony, who now had his Armour, was acting in much the same way as Loki was.  
Everyone seemed to freeze when Bruce bellowed in pain. There was a device clearly made by Doctor Doom on his head, and said Doctor was cackling and holding a remote.  
"The Hulk is mine!" he crowed, as a newly transformed Hulk launched himself at the Avengers.

* * *

Halvar swore in his native tongue and lunged towards his bedroom.

* * *

"J says help is on the way." Tony relayed through gritted teeth. "Got better things to do than get an answer outta him."  
"SHIELD?" Steve suggested, rolling to dodge a flying chunk of rubble.  
"Maybe." Natasha agreed.  
"SHIELD will shoot first and ask questions later." Loki snapped, dragging an unconscious Clint to one side and protecting him with his body as Bots opened fire. "We do not want Bruce dead, I would think."  
"Point. Thor?" Tony suggested.  
"A possibility. He never was able to ignore the chance to smite something."

"Raawr!" Hulk lunged at Loki, picking him up and throwing him like a rag doll. As Loki struggled with a hit to the head, the Doom-Controlled Hulk advanced.  
Suddenly, something rammed into the Hulk, forcing him away from Loki.

The first thing the downed Avengers noted about the person was that they were tall- about six feet if they had to guess-. They watched as the two beings wrestled, the newcomer clearly not a match for the Hulk, but a contender against him at least. The second was the red eyes. The third was the blue skin. Then, with a jolt, they recognised the armour, weapons, and crown the figure bore.  
"Halvar." Loki breathed, staring in shock. The shock broke as a crack rent the air, and Halvar's arm was snapped. Whilst the Hulk was triumphant, Halvar's other hand shot up and gripped the device, baring his teeth in savage satisfaction as he sent a pulse of Death Magic through it before throwing the destroyed device to one side where it exploded on impact with the ground.

However, though he was now no longer under Doom's control, the Hulk returned to himself during a fight, and with an unknown opponent, and so reacted quite naturally, throwing Halvar into a wall, where he crumpled to the ground, hissing in warning as Hulk pulled back a fist.  
The blow was stopped by Loki, who threw him away from his Grandson. But...It wasn't the Loki they were used to. His looks had changed to mirror Halvar's, only he looked far more likely to seriously harm the Hulk, with a feral, razor-edged snarl on his face.

Thankfully, SHIELD arrived, and with the help of the Avengers, managed to get the Hulk into specially-made restraints. He would be taken to the Tower, to the safe-room there. Doom and his Bots were easily dealt with, the man was carted off, cursing Halvar violently. Clint was quickly spirited away to the care of SHIELD Medical.

Said teen was currently being checked over by his Grandfather, who was reprimanding and praising him in a mixture of Jotun and English.  
 _"Halvar Helason, if you ever scare me like that again..."_ Loki trailed off. "I...will hand you over to your Mother." he decided, chuckling at the pleading look of horror on his Grandson's face.  
 _"Not that! Anything but that!"_ Halvar begged, hamming it up a little as the elder Jotunn helped him to his feet, leaning on him for support. Both of their voices had deepened, and had a gravelly, hissing undertone.

"Hey, you two, we're getting a lift back to the Tower, come on!" Tony called.  
Once they were all settled into the back of the SHIELD van, Halvar turned his attention to his arm, poking it gently, assessing the damage.  
"It's not as bad as it could be." He informed the onlookers. "I'll call Kreacher when we're in the Tower and get some Skele-Grow and that'll fix it right up, once I set it."  
"What the hell's Skele-Grow?" Tony asked.  
"Potion. Heals breaks-It can even regrow lost bones, though that's damned painful." Halvar reminisced.  
"And you know that how?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.  
"I had a teacher who was so woefully incompetent it was ridiculous. I broke my arm, and the fool, ignoring my wishes to go to the Matron, managed to vanish all the bones in my arm. He's currently a resident of the permanent Ward in the Magical Hospital after he wiped his own memories with a backfired spell."

"I'm assuming that's why you haven't reverted back like Loki?" Steve noted.  
"Correct. I have no wish to harm myself further via shifting forms. I will be saying in my Jotunn form until my arm is healed. Jotunn are rather more brittle boned than Midgardians. I apologise if I unnerve you."  
"You're scary when you go blue, Reindeer Games." Tony grinned.  
"Well then Stark, you'd better make a point not to anger me." came the aloof reply.  
At the confused looks this reply generated, Halvar explained. "Half-Jotunn like me or someone like Grandfather who has a more Human-Asgardian form, generally revert to Jotun form when angered. We can of course, shift whenever we wish, but our hold on our form loosens when we feel a large degree of any emotion. Sort of like Doctor Banner, now that I think about it."  
"Noted." came the almost unanimous reply.

Natasha's communicator buzzed, and she answered it with a curt "Widow."  
After listening to whoever it was she said "Yes Sir." and after the communication cut, she turned to the group and said "Director Fury and Agent Coulson are waiting at the Tower. JARVIS won't let them in for some reason."  
Everyone looked at Tony, who looked affronted.  
"You think I'm gonna let anyone into the Tower when I'm not there to kick them out?" He seemed genuinely insulted that they thought he would do such a thing.  
"It's the Director and Phil, Tony." Steve pointed out with a sigh.  
"I rest my case."

* * *

"So." Fury said as soon as the group was on the Communal Floor "This is Loki's Grandson?"  
"Crown Prince Halvar Helason of Helheim and Niflheim, Director Fury." Halvar nodded at the man, ignoring the inspection he was currently being given. "I do hope you'll forgive me for not shaking hands as is Midgardian custom."  
"You should have gone to SHIELD Medical with Barton."  
"I mean no disrespect, but I do not trust your people, Director. I can handle my injury myself."  
"How?"  
"Kreacher!" Halvar called. He gave the elf no time to fuss over him when the little being realised he was injured. "Skele-Grow and a splint for a snapped arm, please Kreacher. The Matron will likely have some."  
After the elf popped away as fast as he could, Halvar said calmly "My arm will be in working order by mid-morning tomorrow at the latest."  
"I see."

Kreacher popped back in with the foul potion Halvar remembered, and left it on the island in front of his Master as directed, then popped away.  
" _Grandfather, a little help_?" the young man asked. Loki grimaced, but moved to his side.  
"Bruce would be a greater help than I, but as it is..." he trailed off, and before anyone could ask what they were on about, Loki forced his arm back into its natural position with a sickening crack.  
Halvar, who had turned his head away, closed his eyes and spat out a violent-sounding oath in his Native tongue. Quickly, the arm was splinted and bound, and Halvar threw down the potion as fast as he could.

"You have a high pain tolerance." Fury noted.  
"Naturally." Halvar refused to expand on that statement. JARVIS, however, chose that moment to add  
"Oh, Mr Loki, I have managed to obtain the Dursleys. They should arrive within a couple of days."  
"Thank you, JARVIS." Loki said with a shark's grin. "Tony, you sired a marvel with him."  
"I know. I'm so proud." Tony said dramatically, wiping away a fake tear.  
"I feel that I should point out, that, whilst Sir created me and could metaphorically be classified as my Father, I am not in fact his son, no matter how honoured I would be to be so."  
"Of course, JARVIS."  
"JARVIS, one does not have to be born from a man's seed to be his son. I in no way claim Thor Odinson as my Father, and he, unfortunately, provided the necessary seed for me to be born. James Potter is my Father, though we share no blood relation. You and Tony have far more right to the titles of Father and Son than he and I."  
"I...shall bear that in mind, Crown Prince Halvar."  
"That is all I have any right to ask."

"I hope you're not planning anything illegal, Loki." Fury fixed the unaffected God with a stare. "Again."  
"They committed grievous crimes against my Grandson. They shall suffer. This is not optional, Director, of that I assure you."  
"I have tried, Sir." Halvar informed the serious man. "If I cannot dissuade Grandfather from his vengeance, then no one on Midgard has the ability to do so."  
"Then get someone from Asgard down here!"  
"They would be of no help. Those who could dissuade Grandfather are not of Asgard and would never willingly obey Odin-"  
"And if they were here and knew my reasoning, they would help me gleefully."  
"Most likely. Oh, Grandfather, I have determined to search for Uncle Jörmungandr."  
"You're going to search for your uncle who's a giant snake?" Tony asked. "Is that safe?"

Halvar laughed. "Uncle will not harm me. And I have the advantageous skill of Parseltongue. I will speak to him in the language of the Serpents. It will be an honour to speak to one who can truly be called the King of the Serpents."

"Discuss details later." Fury demanded as Tony opened his mouth, no doubt to interrogate him upon the subject of Parseltongue. "Right now you need to have something prepared for when the Press come looking for information on who helped you in battle, and what his relationship to Loki is. There's no way some relation won't be speculated."  
"Press Conference." Stark stated easily. "That or we get a reporter up here for an article. Question isn't what we're gonna do, it's what we're gonna tell them."  
"Might I suggest we tell the truth?" Halvar suggested quietly.

"That would be painful for you two though." Steve pointed out carefully.  
Loki shrugged, after sharing a quick look with his Grandson.  
"It was going to come out anyway. It is far better to get our tale across before someone with a brain sends Thor in with a story that makes him look the hero and Hela and Halvar the villains."  
"Would Thor stand for that- I mean, wouldn't it go against his honour?"  
"Oh, most assuredly." Loki agreed. "However, his Honour is somewhat...fickle. For example, an order from Odin, say...to deliver a false tale of his woe by the Queen of the Dead, would rank higher than telling the truth."  
"Why do you think the People of Asgard are so dismissive of his actions?" Halvar pointed out with a sigh. "It is, according to Uncle 'Zar, a combination of a gilded image, and the fact that many have been spoon-fed hate of my Family for Eons."  
"Uncle 'Zar?" Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"Salazar Slytherin. The stories about him are greatly exaggerated, and even he concedes that housing a Basilisk in a school was insanity. He like as not will never forgive me for killing the monster, though."  
"It was his Familiar?" At the affirmation, Loki grimaced and shook his head. "Indeed, likely not."

"Can we stay on subject?" Fury barked. Beside him, Coulson gave a small smirk.  
"I think a Press Conference would be better than an Article. We will be able to be clearer and it will likely be easier for the people to take notice of and comprehend." Loki decided.  
"We shall have to wait a couple of days." the younger Prince noted. "I truly doubt presenting myself to the people in my Jotunn form will endear the people to me. There is also the fact that, if I presented myself to the people of Midgard with no due preparation, most of my relatives would flay me alive, all but few being from high positions and understanding the importance of a first impression."

"Indeed." Loki smirked. "And I would be among them."  
"Yes, Grandfather."

"I'll get Pep to organise the conference. There's a conference room on the tenth floor here that we use for Avenger-y things with the press."  
"That's not a word, Tony." Steve sighed.  
"Yeah, whatever." the billionaire shrugged. "I'm halfway through a project with Brucie, so I'm gonna go work on it...I'm bored."  
"Tony, Bruce won't be about for a while yet." Coulson pointed out. "If you don't go to sleep, Pepper will kill you."  
"Meh." Tony waved this away negligently. "She loves me too much."  
"And yet, Stark, you live in terror of her anger." Coulson interjected.

"Well, yeah. Have you _seen_ Pep when she's pissed off?"  
"It cannot match Mother or Aunt Lily." Halvar stated with certainty. "Those two are scarier than 'Zar's Basilisk, Riddle, Thanos, and Odin combined. I do however empathise, Mr Stark."  
"The kid gets it!"

"Peggy was a hellion." Steve found himself reminiscing.  
"Let us not forget our own Black Widow." Loki reprimanded. The Avengers flinched, and Natasha smirked from the bar stool she was perched on.  
"Fortunately, I have yet to arouse your anger." Halvar noted. "I shall endeavour to keep it that way, Lady Widow."  
"If you can learn that without pissing me off first, then you're clearly a cut above all the other males I know." Natasha replied flatly.  
"I should hope I inherited my brains from my Maternal side, though Grandfather Borr is supremely intelligent...that's where all the brains of that line went!" the teen cried triumphantly. "Poor Queen Frigg, being married to an oaf."  
"I had to _live_ with them for years." Loki bemoaned. "The Warriors Three are little better. Of them, only Hogun has some semblance of intelligence. Fandral is an insipid fool, and Volstagg _beat_ what little brain cells he had into extinction."  
"Poor Grandfather." Halvar played along, patting him on the shoulder supportively. "At least you do not suffer the horror of sharing blood with them."  
"Yes, I suppose that would be worse."

"This isn't going to get any further." Fury predicted disgustedly. "Coulson."  
Spinning on his heel, the spy marched to the elevator, Coulson following him after a quick smile to the team.  
"J. Fury Protocol." Stark ordered lazily.  
"I am escorting them out now, Sir, and am destroying any and all bugs." came the efficient reply.  
"You have a Fury Protocol." Steve stated flatly, rubbing a hand down his face.  
"Yup."  
"You are...incorrigible."  
"That, does not sound like a compliment. Shame on you, Popsicle, insulting me for defending my home."  
"Again, I must agree with Mr Stark."

Tony blanched. "Woah, wait, _Mr Stark_? Nooo. Bad Dead Boy. It's Tony, not Mr Stark. Or just Stark. Very few people like or understand my awesomeness, so they call me by my first name only, like an insult."  
"Very well, Tony. I will head to bed now, I think. Jarvis, would it be possible to have the temperature in my room lowered to a cooler level? Frost Giants are not entirely comfortable outside of Winter weather."  
"Of course, Prince Halvar. I will do so immediately. Mr Loki, would you like me to alter the temperature in your room as well?"  
"A few degrees lower would not be amiss. My thanks, and goodnight."


	4. Chapter 4

_Blah blah_ \- Jotunn language

 **Blah blah** \- Language of the Dead

* * *

 **Chapter Four.**

As soon as Halvar was back to his more Human form, the conference was quickly organised. It was set to be comfortable, with the Avengers in Civilian clothing, or, in the case of Halvar and his Grandfather's, in their Royal garb slash armour (Loki had stripped any semblance of Odin and Thor's armour from his own with a satisfied efficiency.)  
Sitting next to his Grandfather at the centre of the table, with Natasha on his other side and the other Avengers seated at the long table in front of a sea of reporters and camera crews, the teen forced down his nerves and reminded himself that he was Crown Prince of Helheim and Niflehim, that he had the support of his family. He could do this. He stayed silent as his Grandfather emotionlessly related their tale to the press, offering his support to the hurting man by gripping his hand tightly beneath the tablecloth.

"So the stories of your children...they're true?" came the tentative question from one of the reporters. Quickly, Halvar took over.  
"I know a little more of the Midgardian tales than Grandfather, due to my childhood. Yes, Uncle Jor was banished to the oceans, though I am not entirely sure as to the rest of the legend surrounding him in regards to him biting his tail to encircle the world or even being able to. Uncle Fenrir is chained in darkness with a sword through his muzzle. Uncle Sleipnir...he is ridden like a common animal, enslaved. My Mother is neither hideous, nor half dead, though even before becoming Queen of her Domain, she did have quite a talent for Necromancy and other acts of the sort, though she is not evil."

"Why did you two shift forms?" came the next question. Loki answered this question.  
"When I was born, there was a war, between the Jotun- the Frost Giants- and the Asgardians. In the final battle, the runtling son of the King of the Jotun Laufey was abandoned by his wet-nurse in the temple along with The Casket of Ancient Winters, which belongs to the Frost Giants by right, not the Asgardians. Odin came upon this find when they won, and took The Casket and the Child to Asgard with him- The Casket for its power, and due to a vague idea that he could use the Crown Prince to as a puppet of sorts when he was older. Only recently did I discover that the Crown Prince of the Jotun had been taken that day...that the Crown Prince was me, I-" unable to continue, Loki closed his mouth firmly. His Grandson shouldered the tale.  
"In a desperate attempt to prove that he was more than a Frost Giant- who he had been raised to believe were monsters- and some partial mental instability from the revelation that he was little more than a pawn to Odin- Grandfather lured Great-Grandfather Laufey to Asgard and killed him."  
"I only very recently, thanks to Halvar, discovered that my Father truly did care for me, and that it had not been he who abandoned me all those years ago. Forgive me, but the fact that I killed the Father who loved me is not something that I enjoy dwelling upon. On that point...would you please make it known that I would like to be known by my birth name. I am Loptr Laufeyson, not Loki Odinson. I suppose...I never was."

"Thor's a rapist!" this stunned exclamation came from around the back of the room.  
"Correct." Halvar replied tersely.  
"In light of this new information, we are obviously in the process of reviewing Thor's place in the Avengers Initiative." Steve chipped in.  
"In that case, why don't you review the place of the Winter Soldier in the group?" someone shot in.  
Halvar frowned slightly. No one had mentioned another member of the team to him.  
"Barnes was being controlled." Tony rebuffed. "Believe me, he's beaten himself up enough for the whole world."  
"What's to say Thor wasn't being controlled?"  
"Are you insinuating that my Mother allowed herself to be raped for some twisted motive that none can conceive?" Halvar snarled, his eyes bleeding red. At his look, and the similarities in the feral expressions on the two Jotun, that line of questioning was swiftly dropped.

"Crown Prince Halvar!" a reported called nervously. "You've told us that you were swapped with the foetus of a dead baby. Can you tell us a little of the mortal life you lived?"  
"His name was Harry James Potter." Loptr bit out. "He lived in Little Whinging, Surrey, London, England. You will find, that the Aunt and Uncle of the child he became, who _so generously_ took him in when Lily and James Potter were murdered defending him from a madman bent on destroying him were...thoroughly abusive, and that the entire neighbourhood and his school knew and did absolutely nothing to help."  
 _"Grandfather!"_ the teen cried, aghast.  
 _"Forgive me, but I will not allow anyone to remain unpunished for your abuse!"_ came the icily determined response. "By all means, Ladies and Gentlemen, investigate to your heart's content."  
"I would plead for you not to, but I know that will do no good." Halvar said tiredly. "Instead I bid you to look, by all means, but if you must speak of my abusive childhood, please keep the details to a minimum, though I know the Cupboard will not be hidden."  
At the mention of his Cupboard, Loptr snarled ferally.  
 _"Enough! Enough, Grandfather! Control yourself!"_ the young Prince ordered harshly.

"Alright." Steve intervened quickly "Does anyone else have anymore questions before we close this Press Conference?"  
"Um..." there was a scrambling by several, and then someone called out "If Thor's membership is revoked- and I sure as hell hope it is- will you be looking for anyone to take his place on the Team?"  
Steve blinked. Not only at the vulgarity, but at the point that had just been brought up. Yes, Thor's removal would leave a space. That...bore looking into. Exchanging a glance with the other members of his team, the Leader responded "That is actually a, rather good, question, which we haven't discussed. We'll have to get back to you on that."

"Alright, so thanks for coming, guys!" Tony called as they stood to leave. "Please do remember the contracts you signed before entering the room, and please, if you want to break them, I really hope you have enough money to pay off the reparations which would bite you on the ass. Other than that, have fun reporting! Avengers Out!"  
"Tony." Pepper sighed as she fell into step next to him. "Really."  
"What? I'm well within my rights to ensure that they report everything correctly. Right, guys?"  
"Well, yes, but the contracts already did that." Bruce pointed out.  
"Psh." that point was waved away as they shuffled into their private lift. "Yeah, but this way they'll remember."

"When do you think Thor'll show his face?" Natasha asked quietly, turning the conversation to more serious matters.  
"Soon. He will not like having his image tarnished." Loptr noted shortly. "It is also highly likely that he will come with the Warriors Three, Sif, or both."  
"What's the thought on what Odin might want done about Hal?" Clint asked, the nickname having been recently coined.  
"I may be dragged to Asgard to be condemned like Mother and Uncles." Halvar speculated. "Odin will not like having the Son of Death- though Mother is merely a Symbol and not Death Itself- wandering around freely. The fact that I am the result of Thor's repulsive actions further makes me something to be dealt with."  
"How likely is it that they will come with orders to kill you?" Pepper asked, alarmed.  
"Not kill, oh never to kill- t'would send me to Mother, and they most certainly do not want that."  
"Point." Clint noted.

"Forgive me if I am being in some way impertinent, but...who is Winter Soldier? None have mentioned him before."  
Steve heavily explained, and Halvar hissed furiously.  
"Ah. That would explain why Mother has been so vicious with those sent to Niflhelm recently. I would not fear that they will be leniently punished by any form of the word, Captain. I also look forward to meeting your friend."  
Steve blinked. "Queen Hela punishes people personally?"  
"Sometimes. Oft have I seen Mother plan personal punishments for people. The number that have been given those has risen significantly recently. She took to it with a rather vicious abandon that was somewhat terrifying to witness."

Changing the subject, the teen enquired as to when Sergeant Barnes would be returning.  
"We don't really know." Tony admitted. "Barnes needed some time to get his head straight. I offered him a pick of one of my houses around the world, and promised that J would keep it a secret, even from me."  
"He'll come if there's trouble." Steve swore. "Buck never backs out of a fight."  
"Of that I have no doubt, Captain." Loptr snorted. "He is your Brother. It clearly runs in the family."  
"He's not-"  
"He fought beside you, bled beside you, fought _for_ you. He is your Brother just as you are his. It cannot be denied, Steven."  
"Frosty has a point." Tony cackled. "Rhodey is so my Bro. Wait, you haven't met Rhodey yet!"

"Colonel James Rhodes." Natasha elaborated. "Liaison between Stark Industries, and, to an extent The Avengers, and the Army. He's War Machine- sort of like Iron Man, but he works for the Army."  
"If such a situation occurs, I would be honoured to meet your Brother, Tony. And yours, Steve."  
"Thanks kid."

Natasha and Clint slipped out at their floor, no doubt to unwind from the conference, Bruce doing likewise at his own floor.  
"Grandfather, perhaps now would be a good time for me to pass on what Grandfather Laufey taught me?" the teen suggested, easily seeing the need to work out his emotions in his elder.  
"That would be appreciated, Grandson, thank you."  
"Hey, don't trash the Training Floor too much, yeah?" Tony pleaded, attempting puppy-dog eyes.  
"We shall endeavour not to, Stark." Loptr replied haughtily, sounding more like himself.  
"Any damage shall be repaired as best as we possibly can, Tony." Halvar promised with a smile.  
"Well, at least that'll save a bill." Pepper noted, nodding. "Thanks."  
"Not a problem, Pepper."

* * *

The training session exhausted the two, leaving no energy for introspection, as Halvar had hoped. The two Jotunn helped each other to their apartment, smiling. Loptr had found that Jotunn fighting styles- Sly, quick, intelligent, economical- suited him far better than anything he had used before. Naturally, Jotunn tactics had been labelled cowardly for said attributes by the Asgardians.

* * *

The weeks passed with relative ease from that point on, though there were some murmurings about Halvar being a- to quote one extreme churchgoer- 'A filthy Necromantic spawn which should be sent to Hell where It belonged'. He was, quite promptly dealt with by Pepper, who somehow managed to rope Agent Coulson into finding any and all skeletons he had- or providing several, though no one really cared which-, and Natasha, who had also been roped in. No one asked exactly how she turned the man into a gibbering wreck, but her satisfied expression had Tony giving her the sort of look one would give an exceedingly dangerous predator, and Steve avoiding her for a couple of days. Of course, Loptr tore into the entire Church, utterly destroying it's credibility with an equal amount of satisfaction to Natasha.

Halvar also shut himself in his room for 48 hours straight when his life with the Dursleys exploded across the Media. One of the main things to set him off was the fact that, somehow pictures of his Cupboard and his room- including the door- had been leaked to the press. It had taken a lot of coaxing for him to come out after only two days, and he'd been withdrawn for the entire week. Pepper also saw to it that any use of those photos were removed from the Media, and their original copies destroyed. The teen was assured that he wasn't (to quote Clint) 'the only one here with an epically fucked up past, and definitely not the only abused one.'

Much to everyone's growing apprehension, Thor or any Asgardian had yet to make an appearance in any way shape or form. Halvar was combing through tales of Sea Monsters with the help of Loptr and Steve, in an attempt to find any hint upon his Uncle. The search was, unfortunately, going at a pace slower than that of a snail. Clearly Uncle Jor was using some complex magic to hide himself. Perhaps he could attempt sensing it...

With very little to do, Halvar found himself exploring New York, after applying a Notice-Me-Not Charm to himself to avoid being mobbed in any sense of the word. Tony took great pleasure in providing the teen with an unlimited credit card. Thus, the room connected to Loptr's became less of an impersonal guest room, and became Halvar's Room as he slowly accumulated bits and bobs to make it his, though did have to be encouraged (by Tony, obviously) to decorate it according to what he really wanted in a bedroom, and not to expense. Such bits and bobs included a circular bed in dark wood with a blue-grey canopy/curtain that tucked into the corner of the room and piled with blankets and pillows of varying dark greens, blue-grey, and amethyst, a warm, plush amethyst rug, and matching blue-grey blinds for the large window, with cushions on the dark green suede window seat.

The teen had also bought several classic books (The Hobbit, Lord of The Rings, Charles Dickens) and some less classical, but interesting books (The Twig Trilogy, Septimus Heap, Garth Nix, etc.) Tony was currently insisting on Movie Nights for the entire team (Halvar was included, despite the fact that he wasn't actually a member), so movies were taken care of. Pepper also took the time into strong-arming the teen into shopping for less formal clothes (his non-magical clothing mostly consisted of shirts, trousers, jumpers, jackets, the occasional waistcoat, and smart shoes and boots.) In this manner, his wardrobe was supplemented with a hooded winter coat, several hoodies, and a few t-shirts and more modern footwear. Natasha joined the expedition, ensuring that Halvar could bear weapons whilst wearing each item of clothing- her own brand of caring, that Halvar understood immediately, mostly from Godric, who was actually fairly similar to Natasha concerning emotions, particularly when it came to showing someone they cared.

Clint took a more direct approach, taking to dragging the teen to arcades, and generally acting a lot like a teenager. The two discovered that Halvar had weird luck on roulette games.

On one of these outings, when he was alone, Halvar was heading for a local park when he heard the sounds of a scuffle from around a corner. Cautiously, the teen sent a small flash of Magic to assess the situation.  
His temper- which, despite other people's opinions, would burn for a long time before even _thinking_ of snuffing out- ignited.

Turning the corner sharply, Halvar frowned at the scene before him. A blond, muscular boy had a smaller boy pinned and was currently punching at his head whilst his goons cheered. Clearly, they hadn't noticed him yet.  
"Kindly release the boy." The Prince ordered, his voice cold.

The bully jerked, his head snapping around to look at the newcomer, as his friends moved to flank him.  
"Yeah?" he sneered. "Or what?"  
"I break your arm." came the even reply. "Possibly both, if I feel the need."  
The goons laughed. Halvar stood stoically as three moved towards him at their leader's gesture. The alley they were in was small, but he had been trained to be able to fight in small spaces and use his surroundings to his advantage.

As one lunged at him, Halvar moved, grabbing the outstretched arm and, using the teen's bodyweight against him, threw him over his shoulder, where he lay, gasping, with a dislocated arm. This seemed to incite the others, who all attacked at once, likely hoping to overwhelm him.  
Halvar didn't even have to use any of the weapons he had on him in the fight, laying them out with simple moves. The ringleader, who had stood back as the others attacks, backed away as Halvar strode forward, and, with a solid punch to the chin, knocked him unconscious.

Satisfied, he turned to the stunned victim.  
"Come." he ordered firmly, helping the dazed teen up.  
"Uh...what?" the teen mumbled.  
"You need medical attention. Fortunately, I only live a block or so away. May I have your name?"

"Peter." the boy mumbled as he was steered out onto the street, the notice-me-not relieving them of onlookers. "Peter Parker. You?"  
"Halvar Helason." Halvar replied.  
"Woah...Loki's Grandson?"  
"His name is Loptr, but other than that, you are correct."

"So...when you say you're taking me to where you live...Avengers Tower?"  
"Most of the Avengers have some skill in medical aid- most have been in dire need of it at several points."  
"Yeah, I can see that." Peter nodded, then winced.

"Prince Halvar, what have you gotten yourself into now?" Jarvis asked exasperatedly as the two slipped into the Avengers private lift (monitored and controlled by Jarvis).  
"I found a group of teenage thugs beating up this young man. I have dealt with them, but Master Parker here is in need of medical attention." the teen explained softly.  
"I shall direct you to the Infirmary, and have Doctor Banner there presently."  
"Woah, Banner? As in Doctor Bruce Banner, the one who wrote those papers on Gamma Radiation?"  
"That would be correct, Mr Parker."  
" _Awesome_." the teen breathed giddily, his eyes sparkling in childish excitement. Halvar found himself stifling a snort and smile of amusement.

"Tony will tease you later for being a good Samaritan, you know that, right?" Bruce asked wryly as Halvar steered Peter to a bed.  
"He has absolutely no ground to stand on, no matter what others may think." Halvar snorted.  
"When has that stopped Tony?"  
"You may have a point, Bruce."  
"There really is no 'may' about it, Grandson." came a drawl from the doorway.  
"Oh, I know, Grandfather. Halvar smirked, turning to the door where the smirk was mirrored back at him.

"H-hi, Doctor Banner!" Peter chirped. "I love your work!"  
Bruce blinked at the beaming, somewhat concussed teen.  
"Really?"  
"Yeah! You're even more awesome than Tony Stark!"

Loptr broke down into unseemly cackles.  
"Boy, I beg of you, say that to his face!"  
"His reaction... Oh, I can see it!" Halvar unashamedly joined his Grandfather in cackling at the boy's declaration.

"Ignore them." Bruce advised, his lips twitching slightly at the wide-eyed puppy-look Peter now sported. "Loptr enjoys anything that causes chaos, really. Halvar...he's just picturing Tony's reaction. Now, you have a minor concussion, so I'm going to ask you to stick around for a while until I say you're clear, alright?"  
"CanIseeyourlab?" Peter blurted out, looking even more excited than he did before, bouncing a little. "Please?"  
"Alright." Bruce chuckled, leading the teen to the elevator, steering him around the duo in the room, who were still cackling.

"Jarvis." Loptr called as soon as he regained control of himself. "Please tell me you filmed that."  
"Certainly not." the AI sounded offended. "Sir dislikes negative opinions of himself. He claims it hurts him, and therefore, doing so goes against my programming."  
"His ego does need some form of deflation, Jarvis." came the response.  
"A job which Miss Romanov, Colonel Rhodes and Miss Potts perform admirably. Shall I add you to that list as well, Mr Laufeyson?"  
"By all means, Jarvis."  
"Grandfather." Halvar cut in. "I offer the services of the Black Family Pensive in your mission."  
"Your offer is accepted and much appreciated, Grandson."  
"Yes, I rather thought it might be."

"Kreacher!" Halvar called, and instantly the Elf popped in front of him, eager to serve. "I am in need of the Family Pensive. Empty of memories."  
"Yes Master!" Kreacher quickly returned with a fine walnut box, which, he knew to be silver-grey velvet padding on the inside with an equally silver Pensive. The box would only open at a touch from the Lordship Ring on his finger,an act which was quickly performed.  
Wordlessly, Halvar passed it to his Grandfather, who promptly disappeared from the room with a delighted/vaguely evil/trickster look on his face, before turning back to his Elf.  
"Have you any messages for me?"  
"Miss Divina wishes me to inform you the little spider will be a good friend for you. Mr Longbottom informs that the Wizenagemot is ceding to the demands you left. The Betrayers were put on trial, though instead of Death, they survived the stripping of their Magic, and so are garbage in both the Magical and Muggle worlds. Mr Mayhem is recovering...slowly."  
"Good. Give them my love, thank Divina and Nev for their messages. That will be all, Kreacher."  
"Yes Master." With a bow, Kreacher popped away.

Sighing, Halvar made his way to the lift, which was swiftly opened by Jarvis.  
"Jarvis, would you please inform Mr Parker that, should he tire of Doctor Banner's Lab, he is very welcome to come to my room."  
"Of course Prince Halvar. Shall I infer from your statement that you wish to go to your room?"  
"Yes, thank you Jarvis."

* * *

Stepping into his room, Halvar sighed as he leaned against the door, before slowly gathering himself.  
Luna had sent him a message.  
It was not...unusual for his Seer friend to give cryptic messages, but, more often than most, they came when there would be trouble ahead. The most memorable one had to be in his Second Year at Hogwarts, before their friendship truly began, when Luna had informed him that 'Pure tears will heal whilst poison will destroy the soul'. Obviously, he'd worked it out later. Absently, Halvar wondered who the 'little spider' was. Someone related in some way to Natasha, perhaps? He would not ask her if she had any family. The Lady Widow was fearsome enough when _not_ roused, and the young man did intend to keep his word to never rouse her temper if he could help it.

Well. Chewing upon it would do no good. Halvar knew from experience that he would understand Luna's message when the time was right- they could only be truly understood when whatever they referred to was in front of you.  
it would still bug him no end though.

"Damnit." Halvar snarled, stalking over to his desk in the corner, where his present research for his Uncle lay. He _would_ get his mind off Luna's message.

* * *

Peter slowly made his way down the hallway, carrying a plate of salmon and steamed rice with peas and carrots.  
After an awesome time in Doctor Banner's lab- at some point interrupted by a semi-hysterical Hawkeye, who congratulated him on helping to push down Mr Stark's ego, much to his confusion- _Captain America_ himself came down to drag them up to eat. In the confusion that followed- a moping Tony Stark who had also been dragged out of his lab and pointedly ignored him, an immensely satisfied Loptr Laufeyson, and conversation with the Avengers being thrown at him from all quarters, Peter felt he couldn't be blamed for not noticing the absence of Prince Halvar.

In fact, it was Loptr, halfway through the meal, who paused and groaned, catching everyone's attention.  
"Jarvis." He spoke to the ceiling. "Where is my Grandson?"  
"The Crown Prince has not stirred from his room since he returned, Prince Loptr." The AI replied. "I believe he is immersed in the files of data he has collected on the possible whereabouts of his Uncle."  
"Wonderful."  
"Is he alright, Jarvis?" Captain Rogers asked worriedly.  
"He seemed somewhat dazed by a message from one of his friends before he turned himself to his research."  
"Which friend?" Loptr cut in, his eyes narrowing.  
"Miss Divina, Mr Laufeyson."

"That...would rather explain it." the man mused. "She's a Seer." He expanded to the table.  
"Wow." Peter managed to get out.  
"Indeed." a small smile was sent his way.

"He can't not eat." Black Widow spoke, her eyes narrowing slightly.  
"So we take the food to him." Mr Stark said, as though it was obvious. "What?" he said, at the looks he received. "You think _I'm_ bad on a science binge? Pepper's worse in a work frenzy. I've seen her in this sort of frenzy before."  
"I did not know that." Hawkeye's eyes had widened a little in shock.  
"Duh. She hides it behind an amazing 'CEO' Mask."  
"She _is_ an amazing CEO." Doctor Banner deadpanned.  
"Did you hear me say she wasn't?"

So. Back to Peter carrying a plate of food down the hall. Somehow, it had been decided that he would be the one to take Prince Halvar his food. Tentatively, he knocked on the door before him.

* * *

A knock at the door jerked Halvar from his scouring of the documents before him.  
"Enter." he called, frowning slightly.  
The door eased open to see Peter Parker standing there, holding up a plate of food.

"I come in peace?" he called hopefully.  
"And bearing one of my favourite meals, how wonderful." Halvar laughed, leading the teen over to a small table with two chairs tucked into the wall. "I had not realised it was lunchtime."  
"Yeah..we kinda guessed."  
"My search for Uncle Jor is extremely absorbing." Halvar explained sheepishly.  
"Jor...the World Serpent, right?"  
"Yes, though how much of the stories of him are true is yet to be discovered." the teen grumbled as he ate. "I have at least managed to determine that Uncle must be using some complex magic to hide himself."  
"Oh...how's that going to affect your search?" Peter wondered.  
"Actually, it could be very helpful. I shall have to confer with Grandfather, but it may be possible to locate him by the magic he uses."  
"Sort of like a homing beacon?"  
"Precisely, though it will likely be far more complicated than that. There are many branches of Magic, and each are able of some form of concealment."


End file.
